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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27194933">night in budapest, third floor.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeana/pseuds/Laeana'>Laeana</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Swimming RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awkward Crush, Boys In Love, Budapest, Cali Condors, Energy Standard, Falling In Love, First Time, Friendship, International Swimming League, M/M, Promises, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rival Relationship, Secret Relationship, Teasing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:42:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,231</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27194933</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeana/pseuds/Laeana</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>And he feels like this year could be their year.</p><p>Not Energy Standard, not London Roar.</p><p>Cali Condors.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Florent Manaudou/Caeleb Dressel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>night in budapest, third floor.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They finally arrive in Budapest. Caeleb is already feeling impatient. An international competition. The context is not happy but for the moment, he couldn't care more. He has confidence in his team and he knows this year is going to be their year.</p><p> </p><p>Not Energy Standard, not London Roar.</p><p> </p><p>Cali Condors.</p><p> </p><p>His sister made him promise that she wasn't joining the team for nothing, with a knowing smile and a nudge in the ribs. He kindly ran after her to be sure that she would come in his team but in view of the glance exchanged, he was sure that this year, the Dressel siblings would be complete.</p><p> </p><p>He sends a message to his girlfriend as he arrives at the hotel, already briefed on the procedures. He knows it's not going to be fun, that the rules are strict. He greets Lilly and Allison whom he meets in the hallway.</p><p> </p><p>“That first match ?” Lilly asks, raising an eyebrow.</p><p> </p><p>“Impatient. If we can crush Energy, take our revenge …”</p><p> </p><p>In mentioning this, he knows that a glimmer of determination shines in his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you sure it has nothing to do with Florent instead ?”</p><p> </p><p>The question of the oldest one of the three leaves him frozen in place. He bites his lip for a moment, uncertain, not realizing.</p><p> </p><p>“I don't know what you're talking about-”</p><p> </p><p>Allison rolls her eyes, and he's sure, without her mask, he would see her mouth puckered into an annoyed pout, before leaving them, a vague wave of his hand as her goodbye.</p><p> </p><p>“And so ? Where's Sherridon ?”</p><p> </p><p>“We couldn't make the trip together, something about … not wanting to travel with me in this state. It shouldn't take long before she arrives.”</p><p> </p><p>“What a surprise.”</p><p> </p><p>Caeleb can, once again, be surprised by the words of his interlocutor. He doesn't really understand. What do they have all today ? Lilly must notice his startled look as she puts an arm around his shoulders before dragging him to the elevator.</p><p> </p><p>She stops just ahead, loosening her embrace and stepping back a few steps.</p><p> </p><p>“I just realized that what I'm doing isn't very covid friendly. Sorry. But …”</p><p> </p><p>Their conversation is interrupted by the ringing of the elevator. They both enter, dragging his backpack by the hand and while she is taking her suitcase after her.</p><p> </p><p>“You're still very young, Cal’, you have the right to make mistakes, to go too fast. Your life is not frozen.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aren’t you a year younger than me ?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yet we have a very different conception of our lives, you know.”</p><p> </p><p>They look at each other for a moment, eye to eye. It's strange. It is certain that, at this precise moment, something is playing out. But he's so focused on his routine, in what he is, what he should be, what he can represent and what he represents, that he doesn't see it.</p><p> </p><p>The doors open again.</p><p> </p><p>“I should stop trying so hard.” Lilly finally sighs, stepping out of the cabin.</p><p> </p><p>“I don't understand what you are talking about.” he says simply, clear and concise.</p><p> </p><p>“We know. That’s the most frustrating about you.”</p><p> </p><p>The doors are about to close, the younger one seems to put a smile on his features, he sees the corners of her eyes narrowing slightly.</p><p> </p><p>“By the way, Energy Standard is in this hotel !” she throws and then suddenly he's alone.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn't want to think about it, he doesn't think about it. Allison brought up Florent instead and he thinks with a distracted smile how great the coincidence would be if they were on the same floor.</p><p> </p><p>Nah, impossible.</p><p> </p><p>And, anyway, they have to stay between swimmers, they can't get into other people's bubbles.</p><p> </p><p>He stops dead in his own thoughts, staring at the hallway the doors just revealed with surprise. Astonishment. Almost a shock.</p><p> </p><p>Did he just consider …</p><p> </p><p>He shakes his head, picks up his bag with a soft gesture. It's not something he has to worry about. Weekend competition, that's all that should interest him.</p><p> </p><p>It's impossible anyway, it's unthinkable. </p><p> </p><p>He almost laughs at the absurdity of his own reasoning. Bad idea, bad path. It can only be that. He really needs to rest after his trip, that's all.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Caeleb is in a really nice mood the next day. In shape. They have a lot to do. He enters the swimming pool, a conversation started with Justin who details his shopping and when he looks up-</p><p> </p><p>When he looks up, he inevitably falls on Florent. </p><p> </p><p>How long have they not seen each other ? Probably months. Probably months and right now he feels so … strange. All confused inside. As if he had found a part of him missing. </p><p> </p><p>Then the gaze of the Frenchman falls on him too.</p><p> </p><p>He can't help but smile at him, almost shyly. And it makes him want to tear his eyes out with a spoon because it doesn't look like him at all. It’s not him. This way of acting, these actions ... </p><p> </p><p>But Florent, although a little surprised, offers him a small smile in return.</p><p> </p><p>A beat.</p><p> </p><p>He folds his mask over his face, puts a hand on his heart, frozen. A moment. The heart beating at his temples. Oh no. It has never been easy. It is not at all easy.</p><p> </p><p>Six years apart, they had to meet face to face so late.</p><p> </p><p>A hand is placed on his arm.</p><p> </p><p>“Captain ?” Justin laughs lightly, a little mockingly.</p><p> </p><p>“I … yes. Sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“Where did you go ?”</p><p> </p><p>He would have an answer but he is not sure that everyone would like it. To tell the truth, he's not even sure that it pleases him himself. It is to say. Almost ridiculous.</p><p> </p><p>To Energy Standard, apparently.</p><p> </p><p>“Too much to think about.” He pats his temple almost absently. “We have revenge to take after all.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh yeah, man. That’s certain.”</p><p> </p><p>He swallows. It went well enough, it still goes too well maybe. It’s his team, it’s his colors that he defends.</p><p> </p><p>“Just … be careful not to get distracted ?” finally adds the youngest one, after a little hesitation.</p><p> </p><p>Caeleb groans.</p><p> </p><p>“You're not going to start you too ! You would almost start to sound like the girls !”</p><p> </p><p>Justin lowers his head a little too slowly, he has time to see the big smile on his lips.</p><p> </p><p>Could they stop beating around the bush for once ?</p><p> </p><p>“Anyway, I wouldn't do anything that would ruin our performance, you know that very well.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, captain, my captain.”</p><p> </p><p>He nudges his yelping partner well. He rolls his eyes, already exasperated by too many of his teammates and he's going to have to put up with them for over a month. A month !</p><p> </p><p>He turns slightly.</p><p> </p><p>Florent looks away immediately, as if burnt, and from then on a thousand questions snap into his head.</p><p> </p><p>Had he been watching him all this time ?</p><p> </p><p>He feels his cheeks heat up and shakes his head vaguely to get his thoughts together.</p><p> </p><p>No, still not.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Annoyed is not even the right term.</p><p> </p><p>Caeleb is far from being satisfied. Getting beaten in the 50 freestyle. He feels his face twist into a pout. He plays it quiet, however. He cannot afford to indulge in his mood swings.</p><p> </p><p>He knows he can do better, that he can do much better, but he cannot deny the load that has been placed on his body. The training cycle to follow to the letter. He grimaces just thinking about it.</p><p> </p><p>20.63</p><p> </p><p>The time that had to be beaten.</p><p> </p><p>Justin pats him on the back as soon as they get out of the water. A little comfort. A wary mine. With the sanitary measures, he barely has time to discuss with his opponents. </p><p> </p><p>Not that his frustration would help the conversation though.</p><p> </p><p>But that's the kind of relationship that keeps him going, that keeps him feeling alive. On top of the world, looking for a challenge. To be pushed to the best of himself, always to do more. </p><p> </p><p>So disappointing when the least is done.</p><p> </p><p>And he wants to beat everyone and he wants to beat Florent when he challenges his reign which was to remain undisputed, indisputable. More, more, always more effort. Under water, in water, on water. The movements which follow one another and which do not stutter, must not stutter. There is always too much at stake to simply make room.</p><p> </p><p>“You still promised me not to get distracted.” </p><p> </p><p>Justin's finding annoys him and luckily he won against him. Otherwise he is sure he could have had worse fallout, remarks. For junk, three times nothing. Things from which conclusions are drawn; hazardous, and which they hasten to make a diagnosis.</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up, Ress. Keep your mouth shut.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can't go on like this forever. At some point someone will have to open their mouth.” Justin defends himself flatly, a dark glow shining in the back of his eyes. “Or anyway, somebody's gonna do it eventually.”</p><p> </p><p>He lets himself dive into the recovery pool, to silence this voice. A few lengths in which he completely drowns his emotions. He lets himself flow and lets the water smooth out any emotion, any irregular feeling, any problem that he cannot get rid of.</p><p> </p><p>When he goes up, as if in self-awareness, to retrieve a float, the series that swam with him joins him. Someone is just jumping to his right. He hardly pays any attention to it, he shouldn't hang around too much, the competition is clearly not over.</p><p> </p><p>"Do you admit defeat this time ?”</p><p> </p><p>Caeleb bits back a scathing remark, especially when he realizes who is saying the sentence. Florent with a smirk at the corner of his lips. It's crazy how annoying someone so attractive can be at the moment.</p><p> </p><p>The right referral of things, a certain balance. This feeling of competitiveness that they rekindle in each other, always.</p><p> </p><p>“Only to win better tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>He details it for a moment, the playful glow twinkling in his eyes, the slight surprise, the water trickling slowly, almost hiding the end of his tattoo. Biceps, torso, muscles and muscles. He swallows again. Lust.</p><p> </p><p>And that probably will never happen, and it wouldn't be a good idea anyway, and then they're not even gay. So much risk for so little would be madness. </p><p> </p><p>They already have their hearts taken. Supposedly taken, whatever.</p><p> </p><p>Florent bites his lip lightly and, although he does not wear a lot of fabric, he knows that the older man is mentally undressing him. And he knows he has to cut his lengths short, before anything happens. He knows how to keep his self-control.</p><p> </p><p>“See you … yeah, see you later.”</p><p> </p><p>He comes out of the water from the front, removes his cap in a gesture and leaves this part of the pool with long strides, only putting on his mask on the way.</p><p> </p><p>If he hears a remark from any of his teammates, he swears he's going to commit murder.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>There were more matches. Lots of matches. Team against team and their reign is already shaping up. Caeleb knows very well that nothing is won in advance but everything seems to be turning in their favor and he observes it with a sort of uncontained satisfaction.</p><p> </p><p>Off camera, attentive, almost a little too vigilant, Florent leaves light touches on his skin. Barely touched. Too little for him to notice it instantly but just enough to drive him crazy as he goes along.</p><p> </p><p>Unfair.</p><p> </p><p>They are two supposed to be able to play this game but it … still upsets him and he feels guilty deep down, still too guilty. Is it the additional experience that offers the Frenchman such ease ?</p><p> </p><p>He doesn't know and that frustrates him a lot. He is no longer a hormonal teenager, he shouldn't flare up with every touch like that and yet within him he feels fiercely this spark of desire, this hunger.</p><p> </p><p>He always contains himself a little too well.</p><p> </p><p>He maintains the face in front of all his teammates.</p><p> </p><p>The first day ends and he takes a moment to himself. Just sit still, gaze towards the pool, as everyone tidies up around them and the panel displays the scores one last time in real time.</p><p> </p><p>He feels nostalgic somewhere. Counting the time that passes, the time they spend together, with a kind of fear, shudder. Everything can end so quickly and he's in the prime of his career and he's afraid that those years of difference will be an irremediable gap and that he'll never-</p><p> </p><p>He knows he lets himself ramble again. It's not good, it's never good. He is ashamed to take on these thoughts somewhere. So ashamed. He doesn't know what to do with himself, lost.</p><p> </p><p>“What's going on, Cal ?”</p><p> </p><p>His sister has just wedged beside him, against his left side. He shakes his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing much.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you …” she hesitates a moment, unsure and he knows that once the words are out there is no going back “Are you happy like that ? Does the situation really suit you ?”</p><p> </p><p>This makes him close his eyes painfully for several minutes. He's not supposed to have to think about it, he knows that. The simple fact of doubting means that, somewhere, it is not taken for granted.</p><p> </p><p>“Why wouldn't it suit me ? I'm engaged, Sherri’. And I have a good career, and I have my loved ones with me. Why shouldn't I be happy ?”</p><p> </p><p>He listed all of these words as a well-learned speech, something quite automatic. Which may not really come from his heart. But that's what he's supposed to be, what he's always supposed to be. What it is today and what it will still be tomorrow.</p><p> </p><p>He always recites the same rhyme, the same fable, because it is his reality. This is what should be. He will believe it, by dint of thinking about it. Simple code, simple rules. A torch that was passed to him with the rule that being as normal as possible was the guarantee of a simple and peaceful life.</p><p> </p><p>Don't go against the storm.</p><p> </p><p>So he unwraps all these words, always. And he's still terribly afraid that anyone will see through it. He doesn't say it, hardly admits it to himself. Because one day, surely, his lies will meet the truth and the fog will clear and he will be happy without hesitation.</p><p> </p><p>“I spoke with Lilly. I am not blind you know. I want your happiness, your true happiness. Please, Cal’, think about it.”</p><p> </p><p>His sister takes his hand gently. A gesture that they often used to make as a child to reassure themselves, to establish a link, a contact, whatever. So as not to feel alone, to no longer feel alone. </p><p> </p><p>His sister who can sometimes read him too well.</p><p> </p><p>“I know, I …” he sighs “I just don't know what to do anymore.”</p><p> </p><p>Admitting your helplessness is both liberating and overwhelming. Maybe he's not going to survive it.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Caeleb carefully sets his things down to dry, in the smartest way possible. There isn't much left for him to do, except go to sleep, probably. He has a few questions left, but he doesn't feel like he's being tormented by his own thoughts any longer.</p><p> </p><p>Not the courage or even the desire.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn't want to think about it, he doesn't want to dive back into it. He took the photo of his girlfriend and him off his wallpaper, it made him want to throw up. To feel guilty. Even though he's supposed to be the one who proposed to her.</p><p> </p><p>His ring remains in a pocket inside his bag, perfectly preserved, away from any danger.</p><p> </p><p>A sigh escapes from his lips. His sister's advice is legitimate and while he doesn't like to admit it, Lilly's, Allison's and even worse, Justin's opinions are legitimate. It upsets him a lot.</p><p> </p><p>It's true, he has the right to be happy. He has the right to want to do everything for his happiness.</p><p> </p><p>But, ethically, morally … he cannot bring himself to it.</p><p> </p><p>His phone vibrates in his pocket and he raises an eyebrow, grabbing it casually. At this hour, it can literally be anyone. For anything. But it is in front of an unknown number that he falls.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="phone">
  <p class="messagebody">
    <span class="header">unknown</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="text">Open up to me, please</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="text">Really.</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="text">I am at your doorstep.</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="text">It's a bad idea to want this, but I came anyway.</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="text">Before someone sees me.</span><br/>
<br/>
</p>
</div><p> </p><p>Puzzled, Caeleb has a moment of latency during which the messages continue to arrive and he wonders if the person has not entered the wrong number. It could be possible, it is always possible. In which case, it wouldn't concern him and he could just go back and lie in his bed and hope to fall asleep before he starts moping about his fate and-</p><p> </p><p class="messagebody">
  <span class="header">unknown</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="text">Caeleb ?</span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>He freezes. Then reasons. There are thousands of Caelebs on earth, he's sure, he isn’t necessarily the one-</p><p> </p><p class="messagebody">
  <span class="header">unknown</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="text">Dressel ?</span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>Fuck.</p><p> </p><p>He takes a deep breath and moves towards his door. He doesn't really bother to put on pants again, he wants to do the minimum of things, so to speak, and he doesn't even know who's calling him anyway.</p><p> </p><p>What a mistake.</p><p> </p><p>Florent is at his door, two beers in hand, the corners of his eyes stretched out in what appears to be a smile, still a mask on his face. He blinks. His brain is struggling to realize.</p><p> </p><p>“But what are you doing here ? You-”</p><p> </p><p>He pauses on his own, dragging the Frenchman into his room in one movement, because the situation seems a little too risky for him.</p><p> </p><p>Then he pulls back, tries to calm his breathing by pacing in his room.</p><p> </p><p>“Caeleb ?”</p><p> </p><p>“How … how did you get my number ? And how did you know about my room’s number ?”</p><p> </p><p>Florent laughs a little, almost embarrassed, and rubs his neck lightly. In the panic of the moment, Caeleb didn't even notice that the older man's mask had come off, revealing his opponent's pretty lips.</p><p> </p><p>“I asked.” cautiously advances the other swimmer, shrugging his shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>“That's not an answer.”</p><p> </p><p>“This is my answer.” and it sounds final.</p><p> </p><p>He grimaces, almost disappointed somewhere. Chances are, it was one of his teammates who betrayed him. Why not Lilly? Or even his own sister… he goes around the topic to ignore those feelings that kicked in from the very moment he pulled the other man into the room.</p><p> </p><p>Florent places the bottles on the bedroom table and takes a few steps, observing the place, seeming to take his marks, at ease, so at ease in a place that is not his.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing here ?” he relaunches the subject with difficulty.</p><p> </p><p>“I thought we should talk a little, alone.” the Frenchman is advancing more and more towards him and he feels cornered even though he is not yet with his back against the wall. Prey, predator.</p><p> </p><p>“I don't quite see why …”</p><p> </p><p>“Really ?”</p><p> </p><p>Still a little closer. His breath brushing his lips. His mind goes blank.</p><p> </p><p>“I … uh … Florent …”</p><p> </p><p>“Caeleb.”</p><p> </p><p>Too confident about himself.</p><p> </p><p>“What are we doing ?” he whispers and all it takes is a push, an extra step, for their mouths to lay on each other.</p><p> </p><p>He feels himself shaking. One of Florent's arms wraps around his waist and he finds himself pressed firmly against his chest. Their tongue meet. A moan escapes him.</p><p> </p><p>“Caeleb … Caeleb … Caeleb …”</p><p> </p><p>Litany of words that float down his skin as the Frenchman drifts from his lips to his neck. Two hands under his t-shirt.</p><p> </p><p>“May I ?” a request, awaiting authorization.</p><p> </p><p>“Take off your clothes.” he resumes, taking off his t-shirt himself.</p><p> </p><p>Meters of bare skin are revealed before his eyes. He sighs softly, he wants to let go in the moment, not to think more about it. The fear that everything will end too quickly.</p><p> </p><p>He feels his companion's lips resting on the tips of his eagle's wings and then starting to drift along his tattoo and, god damn it, he doesn't really hold back his hands which in turn go on an expedition to touch, learn, map this unknown body and yet so watched.</p><p> </p><p>Florent's beard, lightly scratching his skin. He hopes not to keep too many marks of it that would be hard to explain.</p><p> </p><p>It's frustrating but it's something they can't do. Not when they spend their time almost naked by a swimming pool. He retains each of his gestures with a delicacy that is unlike him and knows how to recognize the same in the other swimmer.</p><p> </p><p>Caeleb is lying on the bed, back on the mattress. He tries to fight lightly against this observation, to reverse their positions but gives up quickly, not necessarily consciously, when his boxers fly in the room and the Frenchman's mouth lands on his cock. </p><p> </p><p>Shit.</p><p> </p><p>He loses his means too easily and this fog of pleasure which destabilizes him disturbs his thoughts deep within himself. He wants to contain his moans, Florent gives him a deep look, almost a warning, and he releases his throat again.</p><p> </p><p>Almost ashamed. Shameless. He believes he has never made such sounds and halfway, as his lover sucks part of his skin, of his thighs, much too high not to be hidden by his swimsuit, he realizes, trembling, that it's …</p><p> </p><p>That it's going to be his first time.</p><p> </p><p>He would like to be able to be confident and be one of those young people who tested everything in their youth, but this is not the case. </p><p> </p><p>“I …” he is disturbed, almost worried.</p><p> </p><p>Florent freezes immediately, a question in his eyes, then, Caeleb does not know how he is doing, he understands and gives a small smile.</p><p> </p><p>“I know, don't worry.” a kiss on his lips, barely a touch, to reassure him.</p><p> </p><p>The first feeling is weird, just a foreign object and where did that lube come from ? He can't help but be jealous at the thought of it, because maybe he's just one of many, nothing special. But there's-</p><p> </p><p>There's this way Florent pronounces his name, whispers it while pressing on the syllables. So precious. Like the most precious thing in the world.</p><p> </p><p>An electric shock that runs through his body and a cry that escapes him. His body is shaking uncontrollably and he has never felt like this.</p><p> </p><p>The Frenchman looks up at him in an instant and he can see his eyes darkened by desire, in the twilight. Like brilliant.</p><p> </p><p>He can't see anything, just feels that thickness getting bigger and the fact that he's hollowed out from within and it's such a strange feeling to perceive.</p><p> </p><p>His lover seems to adapt to him, cherishing him more than anything. </p><p> </p><p>A cry that chokes in his midst.</p><p> </p><p>That's it.</p><p> </p><p>Florent kisses his cheek gently, always. Patient.</p><p> </p><p>“Move, Flo, please.”</p><p> </p><p>The nickname slips off his lips on its own and it brings up a big smile on his opponent's lips. </p><p> </p><p>“Damn, Cal, you are beautiful.”</p><p> </p><p>He still can't realize what they are doing but his mind is so muddled, his vision is strewn with black dots. Too good, too much, just too much. He has never been so overwhelmed.</p><p> </p><p>It's like he can't breathe and at the same time-</p><p> </p><p>At the same time he wishes this moment to last forever. May their summits take a little longer to come and that they stay a little longer, one inside the other, one against the other, becoming one. And it's strange to say but …</p><p> </p><p>This warmth in his chest has always been there but he feels that he could find names there without blushing or without turning away for once.</p><p> </p><p>Hands on his unraveling hips. Awareness. Once again they know very well what they can do and especially what they can <em> not </em> do.</p><p> </p><p>He moans again and again. Whispers his name like it's the only thing that can still pass his lips.</p><p> </p><p>And kisses of course.</p><p> </p><p>Florent bites his lower lip, his tongue, just as frustrated as he is at not being able to do more. A promise somewhere. Another promise, another time. This is it, a promise that it is not a unique opportunity, that it is not nothing.</p><p> </p><p>Hell, that's a bad thing on so many levels.</p><p> </p><p>Then the other swimmer sinks back into him and he suddenly doesn't care. </p><p> </p><p>Not being able to last as long as he would like. Collapsing into a long groan and Florent, above him, disheveled hair, arms flexed in a position that brings out his muscles, protruding, towering over him with all his stoutness, the tattoo that has obsessed him a little too long of his torso in evidence, is magnificent. </p><p> </p><p>Satisfied.</p><p> </p><p>With a last push, the Frenchman ends their moment simply. </p><p> </p><p>He is afraid of what will happen next. His brain begins to function properly again and it all comes back to his face. Overwhelming. The fear of all these variables that he no longer wanted to take into account. What if- what if-</p><p> </p><p>Florent comes back to his side and casually puts an arm around his waist, pulling him against him, under the sheet.</p><p> </p><p>“I'll probably have to get back to my room a little earlier than my alarm, but it will be worth it.” the older man whispers in his ear, laughing lightly.</p><p> </p><p>“You …” he swallows, not sure if he could find his words, his voice still broken by their exchange “Are you staying ?”</p><p> </p><p>Caeleb feels vulnerable saying that. His voice lower than usual, worried. Terrified without really wanting to admit it. Two warm brown eyes resting on him.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course."”</p><p> </p><p>Their position places him lower, his head level with the torso of the other swimmer and the latter takes the opportunity to hug him a little tighter, kissing the top of his head, his hair.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course I’m staying.” reaffirms the Frenchman more firm, confident.</p><p> </p><p>He drinks that confidence without hesitation. He needs it. He needs it so badly. As he loses his footing, as he drifts, he needs something stable, definitely more stable.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Caeleb knows it's way too early to get up when he feels the sheets next to him move. The warm embrace held around him loosens and he immediately opens his eyes, almost panicked.</p><p> </p><p>Florent is standing, calmly getting dressed, but he notices it quickly.</p><p> </p><p>“Cal ? Did I wake you ?”</p><p> </p><p>“I …”</p><p> </p><p>This nickname confuses him. Memories of last night try to reach his muddled brain, still in turmoil.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry. You should go back to sleep, we have a long day tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>Florent searches his pockets and seems to be heading for the exit already. Already ? Another burst that takes hold of him. He needs to act more.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait.” it's low, he doesn't need to raise his voice.</p><p> </p><p>The Frenchman immediately freezes and turns around. Caeleb slips out of bed smoothly, wincing when he feels a slight pain in his lower back and the cool air hits his bare skin.</p><p> </p><p>Quickly arriving at his height, he puts a hand on the cheek of his companion, of the one he has claimed his for one night and who has claimed him his, and kisses him one last time, as if he cannot leave him without. </p><p> </p><p>He comes off but Florent holds him back lightly, pressing his forehead against his.</p><p> </p><p>“It's not a one time and only, is it ?”</p><p> </p><p>He searches for an answer in those dark irises, an answer.</p><p> </p><p>"No. It will never be a one time and only with you.”</p><p> </p><p>Gritty voice. Hammered, chopped, under the influence of emotion. They both are. Trembling.</p><p> </p><p>“I have so many questions, I don't know what we're going to do, I'm scared of the unknown, Flo and I … I'm scared of being the only one feeling that.”</p><p> </p><p>“You are not.” again, so sweet “You're not. You are my only certainty, Caeleb Dressel. At the moment, no back-up plan. I want … I want to see you happy.”</p><p> </p><p>He feels at ease. Inside. Something that happens, always more, in him, in them. A miracle, perhaps. The calm that overwhelms him, that makes him recognize that he is well and that things had to be decided end to end, piece by piece. Taking their time.</p><p> </p><p>A moment to them, which ends.</p><p> </p><p>“Get back to your room safely.” Caeleb whispers, finally pulling away.</p><p> </p><p>“Sleep well.” the other swimmer answers, with a last smile, almost hesitant. Promise, hope ?</p><p> </p><p>It's good. It will be fine. The world is not stopping, on the contrary, it spins, it continues to spin. With or without them.</p><p> </p><p>He carefully records Florent's number on his phone through a very little imaginative : <b>Flo</b>.</p><p> </p><p>He still smiles when he sees the name.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The last day of this first match.</p><p> </p><p>Caeleb looks embarrassed but at the same time amazed when he puts on his swimsuit and notices that, indeed, the mark that Florent left on him is entirely hidden. Unbelievable.</p><p> </p><p>“You seem beaming to me” her sister observes as soon as she sees him “Did something good happen ?”</p><p> </p><p>She blinks innocently, and he realizes that it wasn't her who gave his number and indicates his room. He smiles absently, just hugging her, glad she’s there.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah.” he responds to his ear “More than you could imagine.”</p><p> </p><p>And raising his head, he meets the eyes of Lilly and Allison riveted on them, on him, expectantly. </p><p> </p><p>Stepping back, he says to them :</p><p> </p><p>“You are really unbelievable !”</p><p> </p><p>“Everything for our captain.” Lilly smirks, shrugging her shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>“Justin warned you.” Allison adds, a knowing smile to her partner.</p><p> </p><p>He growls lightly, glaring at them, but nothing seems to be able to alter his good humor, as, from time to time, he exchanges a glance with Florent, a little further.</p><p> </p><p>No one needs to know after all.</p><p> </p><p>It's a perfect day for him. He beats Florent in the 100 freestyle and even if he finds it unfortunate not to be able to face him in the Skins, he is satisfied.</p><p> </p><p>And when the Frenchman, as they reach a corner with no cameras and no one around, kisses him deeply to congratulate him, he just feels better.</p><p> </p><p>His team wins.</p><p> </p><p>The same soft atmosphere that falls. Euphoria. They can do it. This year will be their year. This year will be the year of the Cali Condors. The results putted in big. The screen showing their lead that, finally, can no longer be catched.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a bit strange. A realization that hits him. The fact that they would not be able to see each other before the finale, if they both made it until there. Sad, almost. Adding challenge, interest. He smiles.</p><p> </p><p>Then, it’s true that it’s the same town, the same hotel, a few doors, maybe a floor further away, because after all if Florent knows where his room is, the reverse isn’t reciprocal.</p><p> </p><p>They are last to leave the pool, to say goodbye to this first match of the competition. They can’t really be seen together and the insecurity, the risk, makes them move away a bit more than what they would have wanted. </p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t forget the spark in the Frenchman’s look. He doesn’t forget the hope, the promise. </p><p> </p><p>They are standing one in front of the other, bags on their backs, mask on their faces, at an almost awkward distance. Hesitating.</p><p>Even though he still has the number of the other swimmer in his pocket. </p><p> </p><p>“See you in the finale.” he says simply. </p><p> </p><p>Florent snorts. It looks more like a muffled laugh than a snort. </p><p> </p><p>Something tells him that they will see each other way before that. </p><p> </p><p>“You bet ?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>very tempted to write about swimming in general. I know this fandom is pretty much dead and this makes me really sad so ... here it is. Probably not the only story I'll write here, I hope you liked it anyway, thanks for reading :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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